Each of my babies has had their own special way of communicating with me, from the different cries they used to tell me they were hungry, tired, or angry, to the expressions on their tiny, adorable faces. My youngest is no exception. He spends each day sending me love beams with his eyes, giggling, grunting, and squawking his displeasure like a little pterodactyl. There are so many things I swear my baby is trying to tell me, with every peep and snuggle, and I'm getting pretty good at translating his messages.
Hungry is usually a squeaky cry, which revs up like a lawnmower you are unsuccessfully trying to start that literally turns into a happy "nom nom nom," once he has a nipple in his mouth. It's so cute it hurts. "I'm wet" is a pained, frantic cry, as if to say, "What is happening? This doesn't feel good. I don't like it one bit." My favorite is the sweet sound he makes when he hears my voice and his eyes focus as I come into view. It's pure, unadulterated love. I'm his person and he's mine, and we're both happier when the other is in sight.
My baby and I have only had a couple of months to figure things out, but we've already found a rhythm and a way to communicate that transcends the need for words, You'd think, by now, I would have learned my baby is destined to wake up when my partner and I are enjoying some sexy time, or that my baby will definitely pee on me every time I dare to change a diaper. I have, however, caught on to my baby's apparent preference to sleep all day and party all night. Still, as much as I miss sleep, I love holding my newborn more. So, I snuggle him close and rock him to sleep as the minutes tick by, just as he probably planned, my precious evil genius. My baby has me right where he wants me, so I spend my time eagerly waiting his next command. Things like:
My baby's hungry cry is easy to decipher and now that we've found the right formula for his allergies, he's pretty easy to please. Nom nom nom. Ugh, he's so cute when he's enjoying his science milk.
He's such a chill baby most of the time, so it's clear when something is wrong. My little one isn't shy about communicating distress, whether it's crying, grunting, or projectile vomiting everywhere. Poor baby (and mommy).
"I Love Your Snuggles"
"You Are Enough"
As much as I worry that I am not giving my baby everything he needs, he tells me every day that I am enough. Mostly, with his smiles and snuggles.
"I Like Being Naked"
His laughs and wiggles tell me that being naked is the best thing ever. Bath time and peeing on mom seem to be his favorite pass times.
"I Hope You Don't Like Sleep"
His urgent cries from the bassinet next to my bed seem to shout, "I'm awake. I'm lonely. Pick me up, mama."
My response: "Why won't you sleep? Pretty please. I'll buy you a pony."
"I'm Pooping Right Now"
"You did just put a clean diaper on me, what did you expect? I'm totally pooping right now." Yeah, I am pretty positive he says the aforementioned on a semi-regular (read: way too regular) basis.
"You're Never Having Sex Again"
My son's peep and squeak cry seems to say, "Mommy and daddy are totally awake. I can hear them laughing in the other room. Would one of you please come pick me up?"
My response is usually an internal plea along the lines of, "Please go back to sleep. Mama needs sex."
"If You Put Me Down, I Am Totally Gonna Wake Up."
I gently set my baby down in his bassinet, like Indiana Jones returning an artifact to a sacred temple to avoid setting off a trap.
Of course, that's exactly when his eyes snap open and lock onto mine, as if to say, "What do you think you are doing? I was comfy, and you think I won't notice if you set me down and walk away to giggle with daddy? Nope. Not gonna happen." Sigh.
"Everything Else Can Wait"
As I stare around the room at the baskets of unfolded laundry and listen to my phone chime to remind me of some upcoming deadline, the sound of my son's quiet snoring against my chest drowns it all out. He is the most important thing in my world, and everything else can wait.